The Wake
by ophelia who is insane
Summary: For all you people out there who are quietly shipping H/J in a corner. Told in the First person, antagonistic, sorrowful, with slash. Think before you flame.


**DISCLAIMER:** All characters, events, ideas, Manors, bureaux, stars et cetera, pertaining to the Artemis Fowl books belong to Eion Colfer. I'm not Irish, I'm not male, I don't have children, I'm not the creator of Artemis Fowl, and I don't claim to be.  

**AUTHOUR'S NOTE:** The quotes were taken from Lord Byron's 'When we two parted', so all credit goes to him for that. This was written before I read TEC, but I've made some alterations since reading the book. Please also note that this fic does contain slash. I don't want to hear from people who only want to tell me that they are freaked out by this type of ship, because **a) they are very narrow minded, and ****b) they have been warned. **

**DEDICATON:** For **Kitty Rainbow **- Because you've created a monster. Thanks** for your constant enthusiasm, even in the middle of your exams, and for looking over the draft. *Glomps you affectionately* Credit must also go to **Blue Yeti** and **The Book of Jude**, for helping to 'pioneer' the realms of AF slash. My thanks to you all. **

**The Wake**

 "If I should meet thee,

 After these long years,

 How should I greet thee?

 With silence and tears."

***********

The stars spangled across the sky like pieces of broken glass. It was Juliet who answered the door.

"You're too late." she said. "But come in anyway." 

Her face seemed older, sadder, as though she had seen things that had hurt her deep inside. She was still the same person I remembered.

She led me to the room where he lay.

I remember the sight of his body, lying immobile on the bed, it squashed me with an almost physical force. A dull ache spread in the region of my stomach. He too seemed older. But then, so did I. There was dust on the top of the bureau.  

"I'm so sorry." 

"Don't be."      

"Was there anything I could have done?"

"No. He wanted to go. I don't hold it against you"

"Juliet, please—"

"No! Don't tell me. Don't say it."

Silence tiptoed around us. There was so much I wanted to say. 

"I loved him, you know." she said suddenly.

"I know that." 

And she had. I saw it in the way she looked at him. I honestly didn't know how to respond to her.

"I should have been here."

"Yes you should have."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that. You're not. I loved him! You didn't! Don't come here and tell me that you're sorry, because you didn't know him!"

She was so angry with me.

"Juliet—"

"No, don't say it."

And suddenly silence was there again.

"All my life, I have been trying to live up to his standards. I have tried to be the kind of person that he wanted me to be. I never could quite do it."

"You have never been that kind of person." 

She sighed.

"I have to leave this kind of life," she said finally "I'm going to go away."

"Where?'

"I don't know. I won't be able to stay here anymore; it will be suffocating without him. I have to get out of here." 

And then that silence was there once more. We both waited and waited, for some thought to voice itself. It grew and lengthened, until we both felt that there was only silence in the world, and all noise had ceased to exist, but even then we hardly knew where that silence was coming from. It pressed against our ears and eyes and hearts, blinding us from everything else, until we were swimming through a black void of utter stillness. She drew a sharp breath, and the room materialised itself again.

"Oh god" she whispered "What am I going to do with out him?" 

I moved towards her, to touch her, comfort her. To show her what I_ was feeling. The ache in my stomach grew. _

To lay my hand on her arm and feel the skin turn to gooseflesh. I wanted to do that so much. But I didn't. We just stood there, together, in silence broken by the occasional word. The dust on the bureau lay very still. 

The odd brightness in her eyes grew. The ache which was also inside her grew too. I could see it in her face. 

"I was too late" I said.

"You were too late" she said dutifully.

"I'm so sorry." 

I meant it. I could have stopped it. It was my fault. My fault. The weight of that responsibility settled itself on my shoulders. 

"You didn't love him."

"Didn't I? How do you know that? How can you tell what I feel in my heart? How can I tell what you feel in your heart? It's only by being honest with each other that we will know the truth. Do you want to know?"

"No! Don't say it. I don't want to hear those words. Not yet."

The tears streaked her face like raindrops down a window pane. My fault. 

I lay my hand on her arm. Her skin turned to gooseflesh. Comforting.

My fault.

She knelt down to my level and put her arms around me. As a mother would a child. As a sister would a sister. As a lover would a lover. Her body shook with her grief, as though there was a wild animal inside of her, fighting to get out.

We were swimming through a black void of utter stillness. Stars sparkled like broken glass. Dust lay very still. The depth of the emotion was sheer and giddy. I was swept away by joy, and relief, and loss, and gain, and emptiness, and fulfilment, and hate, and revenge, a memory of playing with a yellow plastic ball, and the claw sharp, bloodied love, and the conviction that she would never again put herself through this agony. 

My fault.

"Juliet—"

"It's ok" she said through her sobs "You can tell me now."

I hesitated.

"I-I didn't come here to see Butler."

"Domovoi."

"Domovoi." I agreed.

"I know."

"I came here to see you."

"I know." 

"I said I'd keep an eye on you. I meant it."

Silence and tears. On both parties.

"I never meant to hurt you." I whispered.

"It's not your fault." 

"It is."

I moved away. Guilt ate me up like a greedy child. 

"Just tell me one thing." she said suddenly "Did you? Did you love him?"

Silence. Tears. Guilt. 

"Not like I love you." 

She knew. She understood. Like a sister.

It was at that moment, that Artemis came in. He stood in the doorway, looking like an old, old man. His grief seemed beyond words. 

"Captain," he said, seeing me, "I think you had better leave."

He showed me out. On the threshold of the Manor he turned to me.

"I'm sorry." I said.

"It's not your fault."

"It is." 

"Holly, he's gone. Forever. There's no going back. He's dead."

"I could have stopped it."

"Listen to me" he took me by the shoulders. "It's the hardest thing that I've ever had to do. He's going to be separated from us by six feet of hard, cold, solid earth. Six feet of earth and eternity. Death isn't something you can stop."

I knew. She knew. He knew. The pain was intolerable for us.

I turned away and walked off into the night, starts sparking the sky like broken glass. Silence. Tears. Guilt. 

Because I could have done something. I could have stopped it. I could have. I could have saved her from the pain. I could have saved all of them. But I hadn't. I was too late.

My fault. 

Silence. Tears.

Guilt.

***********

"When we two parted,

 In silence and tears,

 Half broken hearted,

 To sever for years,

 Pale grew thy cheek, and cold,

 Colder thy kiss,

 Truly that hour foretold,

 Sorrow to this."

***********        


End file.
